


blood // water

by vosian_nightmare



Series: identity [1]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Din Djarin Needs a Hug, Gen, I Give Him The Opposite, Implied/Referenced Torture, Sorry guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:08:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27693940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vosian_nightmare/pseuds/vosian_nightmare
Summary: Blood drips down Din’s cheek and pools in the bottom of his helmet. His body is sore and the hard metal floor of the prison cell he was thrown in has started to hurt his knees.Gideon was talking. Monologuing, really. Something about control and peace and other Empire nonsense. Din wasn’t listening. He thinks he got a concussion in the fight.Only when the child- his child- was mentioned did he finally tune in..
Relationships: Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Din Djarin
Series: identity [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2043688
Comments: 5
Kudos: 192





	blood // water

**Author's Note:**

> okay so i just got caught up and immediately tumblr was like "heres some angst! now go write some" so here. angst.
> 
> me: must make sure every word is perfect  
> also me: post it post it post it p 
> 
> [inspired by this fanart by kasielart on tumblr](https://kasielartist.tumblr.com/post/612220455906148352/i-have-an-idea-for-an-art-if-youre-interested)

The dark saber seems to hum in time with Gideon’s steps. The man, if he could be called that, circles Din. The dark saber drags on the ground behind him.

Blood drips down Din’s cheek and pools in the bottom of his helmet. His body is sore and the hard metal floor of the prison cell he was thrown in has started to hurt his knees.

Gideon was talking. Monologuing, really. Something about control and peace and other Empire nonsense. Din wasn’t listening. He thinks he got a concussion in the fight.

Only when the child- _his_ child- was mentioned did he finally tune in.

“The child will give us an edge over the New Republic.”

 _The child is safe,_ he reminds himself. _Safe with that not-Jedi._ **_Safe_**.

“The power it possesses… I want it.” The saber picks up, Gideon swinging it menacingly in front of Din’s face.

“I _need_ it.”

_He’s safe._

Din finally looks up. He hopes that his incredulous look translates past the helmet.

“And so there’s a little… _tidbit_ of information I need from you.” Gideon swings the dark saber under Din’s chin, digging it into his neck just enough for a small bead of blood to well up. Din doesn’t allow himself to flinch.

 _The child must be kept safe_.

“Where… is… the asset?”

Gideon kneels down to be eye to eye with Din and instead of responding, he just slams his head as hard as he could against Gideon’s. Both of them reel back from the hit, Gideon clutching a now bleeding and probably broken nose and Din lists a little to the side, now dizzy having agitated what is now confirmed as a concussion. He leans forward, trying to get the spinning to stop until he feels Gideon’s hands grab his head and a knee slams into his chest with a _crack_.

Din struggles to breathe. He instinctively tries to curl into himself, to protect his now broken ribs, but Gideon doesn’t let go of his head, keeping him upright. So instead Din just spits out the blood that had started pooling in his mouth and doesn’t say anything.

_Just need to keep the child safe._

“A pitiful act of cowardice from a man who knows what's to come.” Gideon’s voice is strained from either pain or anger or both, “Do you understand what this could do, what _I_ could do with this power? Peace, Djarin!” Gideon pushed Din’s head away roughly, reigniting the ache that had started to subside. "Peace throughout the galaxy."

“Peace through tyranny.” Din finally spoke.

“Ah, so it does talk.” Gideon was again kneeling in front of him. “You might not get this, having grown up in a sewer, but people _need_ to be controlled. I mean,” he laughed and gestured around them, “look at the state of things. The New Republic is weak. They can’t keep control. It’s chaos.” Gideon’s hands were back on his helmet. “The Empire is the only thing that can keep the peace, do you understand? And _I_ need the asset so I can finally rise up-”

Din had had enough. He has several broken ribs, a concussion, and his arms cuffed so tight they are pulling on his shoulder joint. He is tired. He is in pain. And he Does. Not. Want. To. Listen. To. This. _Shit-_

With a yell, he pushes off his foot, charging against Gideon and slamming him against the wall. Gideon, though surprised, wasn’t surprised enough and easily deflected Din’s attempts at kicking him or slamming into him again. The dark saber had been dropped in the struggle but Din didn’t know where, he’d only heard it clatter somewhere to his left. 

But it didn’t matter. He's too weak and being cuffed absolutely does not help. Gideon had him slammed against the wall and then back on the ground in a matter of seconds. Din was moving to sit up and try to catch his breath when Gideon yelled. And kicked him. And beat him. And kicked and beat and yelled for what felt like forever until it suddenly stopped. Din let out a cough and tried not to think about the blood that came with it.

He spent a few minutes trying to think through the pain and get his breathing back under control. Gideon had just watched, dark saber back in hand as if to taunt him. “ _Oh, wanna try again?”_ he seemed to say. And he did. And Gideon took him down again. And again. And again.

Din spat out more blood. He doesn’t think he has any more ribs intact or a brain that can think straight. He sagged against the cold ground, in pain, so much pain, but refusing to lose consciousness.

Gideon seemed to take that as surrender. He kneeled back down again. “Just tell me where it is, and I’ll make it a quick death.” He moves the dark saber close to Din’s neck. All he could hear, could _feel,_ was the humming.

Din once again spat out blood. Concerning. “Fuck you.” he manages to get out. Beside him, Gideon frowned.

“I see.” He grabs Din’s head yet again. “The hard way, I suppose.” He yanks Din back up to a kneeling position and begins feeling his way across the bottom of the helmet. “I’m not opposed to getting my hands dirty.”

Din feels him undo one of the clasps, and his stomach falls. He struggles as much as he can, but Gideon has already found the other-

He thinks about his Tribe, about the Covert. He thinks about the Armourer, about his brothers and sisters who died, and about those who fled.

He thinks about the Mandalorians who raised him, about the Code.

He feels Gideon start tugging the helmet off.

And he thinks about the child. His child. The child he needs to protect.

He feels the cold air, the bright lights. A hand grips his hair tight.

_The child needs to be safe._

_The child needs to be safe._

_His child_ **_will be_ ** _kept safe._

**Author's Note:**

> and then ahsoka, greef, and cara all stage a rescue somehow and din steals the dark saber without telling anyone cause hes a petty bitch that loves drama


End file.
